


someday we'll all be (stories that get told)

by justalotoffeelings



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Exploration of Group Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, I am very interested in every Vox Machina dynamic so stay tuned for THAT, Multi, Shenanigans, more characters and relationships to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalotoffeelings/pseuds/justalotoffeelings
Summary: A collection of very tiny Critical Role drabbles, because I am short on time but full of love.





	1. Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On Percy, and Grog, and appearances._

Percy will be the first to admit that he’s not in the most _stable_ frame of mind when they find him in that awful dungeon, but he’s fairly sure there’s a _giant_ standing outside his cell, hallucinations be damned.

“Who the fuck is this?” says the giant. Percy is rather inclined to agree.

( _Grog_ , he is told, when he can feel the sun on his skin again.)

Grog is, notably, very large – but not a giant – a goliath. Percy has seen goliaths before, just not up close and not so…affable. Grog is large, and loud, and eager for violence, but when he talks to the gnome cleric ( _Pike_ , Percy learns) he is gentle and affectionate and Percy doesn’t _stare,_ gods forbid, but he is certainly surprised.

Percy doesn’t stare. Grog still notices.

“Intimidated, _milord_?” the goliath simpers – it has been established by now that they find Percy’s accent amusing – and flexes, because apparently he does that occasionally. It certainly is… _something_ , Percy will give him that.

He sniffs delicately and averts his eyes. “Hardly. I just have a healthy amount of respect for anyone who looks like they could snap me in half.”

Pike laughs at that, loud and delighted, and elbows Grog’s thigh. “This guy? Nah. He’s a big softie. A real gentleman.”

Grog waggles his eyebrows and grins, all teeth. “That’s me.”

Percy is – shockingly – not reassured.

(The first time he falters in battle, down on one knee in the mud, Grog is at his side in an instant, and his grip is immeasurably soft.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr. You can find me at [elderly-scrolls](http://www.elderly-scrolls.tumblr.com) for more Critical Role stuff!


	2. Earthen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On Pike, and Scanlan, and dirt._

They are weeding out the flower beds on a fine Spring evening.

Well.

 _Pike_ is weeding out the flower beds on a fine Spring evening, and Scanlan finds her there and decides to keep her company, which does not, in any way, involve Scanlan’s hands being _anywhere_ near the ground. Instead he sort of just – _looms_. Which is impressive, considering his stature, but then Pike can hardly talk.

Scanlan _looms_ and talks and talks and talks and Pike is glad of the company and finds herself laughing. Let it never be said that Scanlan Shorthalt was not _entertaining_. If he was nothing else – which he _is_ , he is many things and Pike loves most of them – he would certainly always be _that_.

And yet.

“Would you like a trowel, Scanlan?” she asks, pushing her hair out of her face with the back of one hand.

He stops mid-sentence and blinks at the offered tool. A beat. An easy smile. “Oh, I really couldn’t.”

Pike tries again. “Would you like to be _useful_ , Scanlan?”

 _Well_. He makes a show of being wounded, a hand over his heart and his mouth gaping in outrage. “Pike, I- wow, honestly I- I’m _hurt_ , I’m _offended_. I’m-”

“Happy to help?” Pike guesses, and presses the trowel into his hand.

He softens in an instant, shaking his head fondly. “For you, Pike? Anything.”

His hands are dirty soon enough, but his mood no worse off for it, if his commentary is anything to judge by. “People ask me sometimes if I’m a druid,” he confides, in that tone of voice that means he doesn’t expect to be believed. “They say, ‘oh, Mr Shorthalt, there is just something so…. _natural_ about you, something so _earthy_ -’”

Pike laughs and flicks a clod of dirt at him. “ _Earthy_ my ass.”

She set herself up for that next joke. It’s mostly worth it for Scanlan’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on tumblr. Find me at [elderly-scrolls](http://www.elderly-scrolls.tumblr.com) for more Critical Role stuff!


	3. Pikevals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Assorted Pikeval things, from prompts on tumblr._

> _1\. Belief_

Pike is flattered and terrified in equal measures by the faith her friends place in her. She has never been sure what she did to earn such _trust_ , but it isn’t in her nature to be any less than what they want her to be. So she tries; she could never begrudge them her very best. Still, it isn’t always enough.

Percy’s faith is no less heavy a burden to bear, but it is a gentle, understanding thing, and sometimes when they find each other in the hallways at night he invites her in for a cup of tea, and her smile is a little less forced than it was before.

> _2\. Backslide_

He has bad days. Mornings when he wakes up with the taste of ash on his tongue and his own screams in his ears, nights when he can’t sleep for the memory of Cassandra’s hand slipping from his grasp, and Pike - she _knows_ , she always knows, damn her insight, _bless_ her insight - and Percy would feel chagrined at being so transparent except it’s _Pike_ , and that makes it inexplicably, bafflingly tolerable.

She sits with him in companionable silence and it means more than he can say.

> _3\. Reflection_

They have been in the wilderness for _weeks_ , and so their next encounter with a reflective surface is…amusing, to say the least.

“Gods above,” says Percy. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Pike laughs out a command and Percy kneels obligingly and shudders in mock horror as she makes a perfunctory attempt at taming the bird’s nest of his hair. “Anyone would take you for a proper rascal now,” she teases.

“Oh yes?” Percy raises his brows. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

(She has. She looks like a wild thing. She loves it.)

> _4\. Choices_

He has been running from Whitestone almost as soon as he reclaimed it, and of course, of _course,_ it’s Pike who realises first, taking his hands in her much smaller ones and whispering, “You don’t have to choose.”

It’s so simple when she says it, and suddenly the sentiment rings true - home can be two places at once, if he wants it to be. (And he does. Oh, how he wants it to be.)

“Thank you, Pike,” he says, and if his voice is noticeably unsteady she is gracious enough to ignore it.

> _5\. Containment_

It’s a private game of hers, watching Percy try his damnedest to remain aloof when he so clearly wants to laugh along with the rest of them. He is not so tightly-wound as he once was, and more given to laughter as of late, but he is still a stubborn bastard, and old habits die hard.

She finds a kind of quiet joy in seeing the facade crack, in seeing his eyes crinkle and his dimples twitch into existence despite his most insistent efforts. And when _she_ has been the one to break through that pretence of indifference - well, she would be a hypocrite if she ignored the way her heart shudders within her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at [elderly-scrolls](http://www.elderly-scrolls.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
